Hopeless Romantic

I miss the mushy moments. Sadly, these days Mister can't sweep me off my feet anymore because my feet are firmly planted in the rich soil of recovery. That also means I recognize the big piles of manure. Sigh. I miss the love story.

Victory Will Wait: 1st Annual WOPA Pioneer Day

Check out this fabulous post for this special day!

Victory Will Wait: 1st Annual WOPA Pioneer Day: A few months ago, I had the idea to celebrate Pioneer Day, July 24th, as a holiday for Wives of Porn Addicts (WOPAs). Below is a descri...

Finding Peace

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Feeling very grateful for finding a support group meeting at last. Tears rolled down my face for most of the meeting but it was a good, cleansing cry. ♥

A Swing... and a MISS!

Today is my day. I had finally found a way that I could go to a support group that seemed like it might be the right place for me. It was a phone group, but that was okay. Most important, it wasn't the group that Mister wanted me to go to. It wasn't the spouse support group connected to his SAA group. I don't like SAA. It just doesn't feel right to me for a variety of reasons that I won't go into at this moment.

I was mentally gearing up for this meeting tonight. As the hour approached, I felt nervous about the unknown and anxious that it might not be exactly what I hoped it would be. But, I was brave and dialed the number just like I had planned. And then I waited... and waited... and waited. It was 10 minutes past the time the meeting was supposed to start and nothing had happened yet. I felt so disappointed!

It is an ingrained part of my being to never be late. If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, forget about it. Humph.

I double checked my email for the correct meeting time. I had to do a conversion because I live in a different time zone. Then I checked the time conversion I'd done in my head with an actual converter online. Oops. I was two hours early!

Back to square one... I can do this. I will attend my first support meeting. It will be okay.

Legal vs Moral

My morning started with Mister waking me up to inform me that Son#3's cell phone was beeping this morning (because he is on restriction and lost the privilege of having his phone with him). Mister checked it out only to discover a barrage of text messages and voicemails from the wee hours of the morning. Son#3 was back on the sex lines and trying to set up a meeting with another prostitute. 

Of course this is also not helpful for Mister's sobriety. He will leave for work and that drive will take him directly through the spaces and places where Mister has typically been one of the "Joe's" in that portion of the world that I would prefer to forget it even exists. I choose not to stress over it (and find myself practicing my relaxation breathing just typing about it). Instead, I go through my morning routine, including saying my prayers and trying to relinquish control to the Lord.

Next up in my morning is getting to prod Son#3 awake and get him motivated for the morning since he has an appointment with his psychologist. Now, it is very difficult in my area to find a qualified therapist that specializes in porn/sex addiction recovery. This is his second visit with this particular therapist and the first time Mister was the one that accompanied Son#3 for the visit.

The psychologist asks to visit with me first and asks what has been happening with Son#3. I detail the events in the last 24 hours and then I am surprised by the reaction I receive. I get a lecture about Son#3 being 18 years old and that he has done nothing illegal. (Point of information: If I am not mistaken, soliciting a prostitute is, in fact, illegal.) My personal moral preferences may not align with his choices, but that doesn't make them actually wrong. He has a right to sexual feelings and expression of those feelings within the bounds of the law. Furthermore, I am told that I am not qualified to make the determination that Son#3 has a porn addiction.

So, based on all of this.... 

YOU'RE FIRED!

This doesn't really help things with Son#3 who is now convinced that I am nothing but a religious freak and an abusive parent for trying to squelch his sexuality. Can this day get worse? (Please don't answer that.)

"The societies in which many of us live have for more than a generation failed to foster moral discipline. They have taught that truth is relative and that everyone decides for himself or herself what is right. Concepts such as sin and wrong have been condemned as 'value judgments.' As the Lord describes it, 'Every man walketh in his own way, and after the image of his own god' (D&C 1:16).

"As a consequence, self-discipline has eroded and societies are left to try to maintain order and civility by compulsion. The lack of internal control by individuals breeds external control by governments" (Moral Discipline, D. Todd Christofferson Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, October 2009).

“Policemen and laws can never replace customs, traditions and moral values as a means for regulating human behavior. At best, the police and criminal justice system are the last desperate line of defense for a civilized society. Our increased reliance on laws to regulate behavior is a measure of how uncivilized we’ve become” (Walter Williams, “Laws Are a Poor Substitute for Common Decency, Moral Values,” Deseret News, Apr. 29, 2009, A15).

“There is a great risk in justifying what we do individually and professionally on the basis of what is ‘legal’ rather than what is ‘right.’ In so doing, we put our very souls at risk. The philosophy that what is legal is also right will rob us of what is highest and best in our nature. What conduct is actually legal is, in many instances, way below the standards of a civilized society and light years below the teachings of the Christ. If you accept what is legal as your standard of personal or professional conduct, you will deny yourself of that which is truly noble in your personal dignity and worth” (President James E. Faust, “Be Healers,” Clark Memorandum, spring 2003, 3).

Agency Abused

My sons have grown up listening to me often repeat, "You choose the behavior but you don't choose the consequences."

I get that we all have our agency and that it is a precious gift. But, I hate, Hate, HATE it when agency is abused.

This was exhibited just tonight. Son#3 was allowed to look for some car parts on eBay a few nights ago. He found some things and made some purchases. He is 18 years old and should be able to make some choices for himself. Two packages arrived in the mail today. Something just seemed "off" and so he was told to open the packages in front of me. 

Package 1: Spark plug. Awesome. 

Package 2: "Oh it's just a catalog." That doesn't fly. He has to open the package. He carefully opens the large white envelope, pulls out a piece of cardboard and peeks inside. "Yup. It's a catalog." I have a strong suspicion I already know what is inside. Sadly, I am right. He has abused his agency and exchanged his freedom for a Penthouse magazine that will never be removed from its cellophane wrapper.

His excuse, "What? I have an addiction. It's not my fault."

Recovery? Nope. Not even close. I can't make him want it... no matter how much I want to control his decisions, I am not in control. And I don't like it.

Like Father, Like Son

Not only does Mister have a sex addiction with a particular inclination for prostitutes, but I also discovered that Son#3 has a porn addiction.

D-Day April 2013:

I am at work sitting at my desk when I suddenly feel absolute panic about Son#3. Something is wrong. I can feel it and there is no mistaking it. I immediately call the school to check on him. They assure me that he is at his work study site and that all is well. I cannot shake the feeling. I try calling his cell phone but he doesn't answer. I have no idea what is going on.

Son#2 calls me in a matter of minutes and asks why Son#3 is at home. (Son#2 is graduated and home on break between his double shifts at work.) In this instant there is a flash of knowledge that comes to my mind and I know what has happened ... which makes absolutely no sense because there is no way that I can actually know anything about what just transpired. I am sick to my stomach. I ask Son#2 what happened. He says he came home from work and saw Son#3 rush up the stairs and then heard his bedroom door slam shut.  So much for him being safely at his work site.

Son#3 is an 18 year old senior in high school. However, he also lives with Aspergers and has really never been part of his peer group. He has never dated. He had a long term crush on a girl in our ward for about 7 years, starting in Primary when they were 8. But he has never had a "normal" dating type of relationship. 

A few weeks prior, I discovered that Son#3 had posted an ad on Craigslist seeking "models" to photograph. It was completely inappropriate and I thought that this was a curiosity kind of thing. We talked about why it was wrong and the parameters of appropriate intimate relationships. We talk about why pornography is destructive and how his ad was really an attempt to create pornography. I had no idea this was the tip of the iceberg.

He tried to tell me that he simply got out of his work site early that day. I knew it wasn't true. Then I found my first bit of evidence. One of my checkbooks is in my bedroom with a check written out to some person that I don't even know for $400. It is clearly not my handwriting, but Son#3's handwriting. I confront him. He denies it. I am flabbergasted. I check my bank account to see if the check has been cashed and it has. Son#3 continues to deny it. I tell him that I will be calling the police to file a report because someone has forged my signature and stolen money from my bank account. Still, he denies it.

When the officer is just minutes from my front door, Son#3 says that since I don't believe him, he will just pay the money back to me. He says I'm blaming him for something he didn't do, but whatever. He will give me the money if that's so important to me. I am shocked.

When the police officer arrives, I explain what happened including the fact that I am fairly certain it is Son#3. The officer asks to speak to him .... privately. It is only a few minutes when Son#3 comes to find me and tell me that the officer wants to talk to me. I arrive and the policeman looks at Son#3 and says that he needs to tell me what happened. Son#3 then admits that he forged the check to pay for sex.

How can he look me in the eye and just flat out tell me that? This is a nightmare. 

What actually happened on this particular April afternoon was that Son#3 told his teacher that he had a doctor appointment at the time he should have been going to his work site. Instead, he came to our home to meet a prostitute. He found her using the escort service listings on backpage.com. He says another kid at school told him about the site and he could access it on the school computers in the library. So in a very short span of time, he found a prostitute, called her, scheduled a meeting and took her to my bedroom... 

When she arrived, she told him that her fee was $400 per hour. He didn't have that kind of money so he got one of my checkbooks from our home office and wrote a check to her. (I know her actual name and could look her up on Facebook. It was surreal.)

The police officer tells me that I can press charges but the amount of money makes this a class D felony. The likelihood of anything happening to the prostitute are slim. She can easily claim that she thought I wrote the check for him and provided it as a gift. (As if that would ever actually happen! What kind of mother does that?)

Then I go into policing mode. I begin to search his room. I discover that he has locked the toolbox he keeps in his room and I demand that he unlock it. He doesn't want to. Inside there are magazines and DVDs that Son#3 acquired at an adult bookstore. There are other items that he purchased at the same store ... some I can't even identify and just don't want to know what they are or how/why they are used. All of it is bagged up and hauled to the dump. 

Then I scrub myself in the shower, hoping to feel clean again. Unfortunately, this kind of filth doesn't just wash off. As I scrub, I go through things in my mind. When did he find the time to access this trash? Later he would explain that it was easy to get off of work early and head over to the bookstore whenever he wanted. Sneak it in using the book bag and lock it up where Mom can't get to it. Easy. I am still trying to figure out how this escalated so quickly. My children have no right to privacy at my house. I will randomly check through email accounts, text messages, Facebook, computer histories, room searches, etc. just to keep them on their toes. This couldn't have been happening for very long, I think. Until I discover how it all started. 

Son#3 is put on total restriction ... no cell phone, no computer access, no free time, etc. While his phone is in my possession, he gets a call from an 800 number and they leave a message. How did it all get started? His "friend" at school gave him a 1-800 sex line to call. I never suspected what those calls were because Son#3 is always calling different car part suppliers. They company is calling him because the debit card he used to pay his bill was no longer working and he owed them money. The call is free but the "entertainment" is not.

Just like the first time with Mister, I send Son#3 to see the bishop. The bishop tells me that he believes Son#3 has a serious porn addiction and then asks me for advice on how he can help Son#3. I'm supposed to have the answer? I don't know. I just don't know. I was already trying to climb out of this deep pit from Mister's sex addiction and now this. Why would anyone want my advice about how to help?

The small twinge in the back of my mind was that the week before when the seminary teacher asked us to write letters to our children, I felt impressed to share with Son#3 who he is and some of the gifts the Lord has given him. After I met with the bishop, this continued to come to my mind. He needs to understand who he is ... more now than ever before.

Several days later, a member of the stake Young Women's presidency asked me to prepare an activity and lead a discussion for Youth Conference. It was based on the talk "Our Identity and Our Destiny" by Elder Callister during BYU education week on August 14, 2012. I just started reading this talk and again I knew how to help Son#3.

Elder Callister starts by sharing: "In keeping with the theme of this week, I would like to discuss with you a vision of who we are and what we may become. At a recent training session for General Authorities, the question was asked: 'How can we help those struggling with pornography?' Elder Russell M. Nelson stood and replied, 'Teach them their identity and their purpose.' That answer resonated with me, not only as a response to that specific question but as an appropriate response to most of the challenges we face in life. And so today I speak of the true nature of our identity and a correct vision of our divine destiny."

How can we help Son#3? Help him understand who he is and why he is here.